


Goin' Down to Wally-World

by It_All_Went_South



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Southern United States (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26697976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/It_All_Went_South/pseuds/It_All_Went_South
Summary: When his local weatherman forecasts snow, Walter does what all God-fearing southerners do: He goes down to the Walmart for bread and milk.
Relationships: North Carolina/Maryland (Hetalia)
Kudos: 7





	Goin' Down to Wally-World

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify, Walter is North Carolina, and Marianne is Maryland. Briefly mentioned is Walt's BFFL Luther (West Virginia).

“You need to relax.” Marianne chastised. “They’re calling for two inches, not two feet.”

Walter tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he sped down the highway. “Two inches, two feet. What’s the difference?” He wove in and out of traffic, driving as if his very life depended on getting to the Walmart as quickly as possible. 

“Twenty-two inches.” Marianne replied tersely, her patience wearing thin. At this point in their relationship, she really shouldn’t be surprised by his behavior. Here was a man who had survived wars, rode out hurricanes, and even managed to sit through the entire “Avatar: The Last Airbender” movie without gouging his eyes out. But God forbid you say that awful word: snow. Suddenly, all logic and reason flew out the window, only to be replaced by some kind of neurotic sense of self-preservation. 

“Two inches!” Walter practically screeched. “That’s gonna shut everything down for a week, at least.” 

“No, it won’t. Stop overreacting.” 

“You’re under-reacting.” Walter retorted, as he accelerated to avoid a red light. “If I don’t get bread and milk right now, then there won’t be none left and we’ll both starve to death.”

“You literally live on a farm, and you have enough canned food to last until the end of time. Besides, you can’t starve. You’re immortal, remember?”

Walter scoffed. “So?”

Marianne sighed. There was no reasoning with him when he was like this. Were his brothers the same way? Probably. Now that she thought about it, she never saw the hide nor hair of her fiance’s family when it snowed. Was a fear of cold weather genetic? She should research that - there could be good money in it.

Walter blared his horn at a car. “This traffic is insane. We’re never gonna get there in time.”

“Stop worrying about the traffic. Let’s talk about something else.” Marianne rummaged around in her purse, and produced a crumpled shopping list. “What all do you need from the store?” She asked, reviewing the list. After a moment, she regarded Walter with a look of disbelief. 

“What’s wrong, sweet pea?”

“Why do you need fourteen loaves of bread?”

“I’m just tryin’ to be prepared.” Walter countered. “Besides, I eat a lot of bread.”

“Fourteen loaves, though?” She continued to read. “...And five gallons of milk? You own a dairy cow.”

“What’s your point?” Walter asked. He began to fiddle with the radio.

“My point is that you’re being irrational. Everything is going to be fine.” She said reassuringly. “It’s just snow.” 

Walter made an annoyed sound. “There’s nothing on.” Hearing nothing but advertisements, he continued to tune the radio. "Christmas Specials at Belk’s Dep... Kzzz… Only at the County’s largest car dealersh… Kzzz…. The snow… Kzzz…. Is coming to… Kzzz… get you… Kzzz…" Walter jerked his hand from the tuning dial as if he’d been burned. “Did you just hear that?”

Marianne was perplexed. “Hear what?” 

“When I was tuning the radio!” He exclaimed. Walter motioned frantically with his free hand. “It threatened me!”

Marianne nodded her head slowly. “Right… The radio. How much have you had to drink today, exactly?” 

Walter gave her an exasperated look. “I know what I heard. I’m not crazy.”

“That’s debatable.” Marianne giggled. She reached over the console and took his hand in hers and gently squeezed it. “Wally, it’s going to be fine. We’ll get what we need, and go home. I mean, think about it. This could be fun! When’s the last time we got snowed in together? Just the two of us… alone? With a warm fire and hot chocolate?” She smiled dreamily.

Evidently calmed by her words, Walter managed a deep breath and slowed his vehicle as they approached an intersection. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just being…” At that exact moment, a single, miniscule flake of white death landed menacingly on the windshield. Walter screamed in terror and swerved, smashing into an unlucky trash can. “Was that a snowflake? I just saw snow! Oh my Lord, it’s happening. It’s really happening. It’s the end. Oh Jesus, Joseph, and Dale Earnhardt!” He began to hyperventilate. “They said it was just gonna be two inches the year before last, too! You know what happened? We got four-and-a-half! I was stuck at home for two weeks! I almost run outta beer!” He yanked roughly at his seatbelt as if it were too tight. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to ration beer and cigarettes?” He asked frantically. “Cause it’s not fun.”

“Calm down!” Marianne yelled, startled by his outburst. “Look, Walmart is right down the road. We’ll get in, get out, and go home. Okay? We’re not getting caught in the storm.”

“Okay.” Walter took another deep breath and led his pickup carefully through the intersection. “Okay. Fine. I’ll calm down.” He took another, deeper breath and, increasing the volume of his voice with each word, said, “I’ll calm down just as soon as this car gets outta my damn way!” He smacked his horn. “Move!” He yelled. “Move it! How many cars can there be in a town this small?” The car in question idled along well under the speed limit, oblivious to Walter’s rage.

Marianne was horrified. “Walter! Stop yelling. That’s your neighbor, Mr. Hull.”

“Shoot. Is it?” He looked surprised. 

“Yes! Don’t you recognize his car?”

“Oh. That is his car! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize it. It’s a small world, huh?” Walter laughed and rolled down his window. Still smiling, he leaned out and bellowed, “Mr. Hull, move your damn car! Move it out of the way! It’s an emergency!” 

When the truck finally rolled to a stop in the dirty parking lot a few minutes later, Marianne heaved a sigh of relief. She never thought she’d be so happy to see a Walmart. She had just begun to collect her things when, without a word, Walter cut the engine, sprang out of the vehicle, and made a beeline for the entrance, leaving her alone in the truck. She leapt out and ran after him, shouting for him to wait. When she finally caught up to him, he’d already found a shopping cart and was scanning the store for signs of his precious bread. Marianne started to criticize Walter for abandoning her in the parking lot, but fell silent when she became aware of the chaos around her. Hundreds upon hundreds of crumpled receipts littered the ground, people on mobility scooters were jousting over the few remaining boxes of snack cakes, and scores of pajama-clad shoppers swarmed the two open cash registers. Through it all, “Welcome To The Jungle” could be heard intermittently over the static-ridden intercom. Walter looked around and murmured ominously, “We should get movin’. When it starts snowin’, it’ll get much worse.” Marianne shivered involuntarily; she couldn’t imagine worse.

She followed closely behind Walter while he used his buggy to force his way through the sea of people. When they finally arrived at the bread, Walter let out a groan of aggravation. 

“What’s wrong now?”

He sighed. “They’ve only got, like, eight loaves of bread left.”

“So?” Marianne rolled her eyes. “Take what you can get and let’s go.”

Walter huffed. “Fine.”

As Walter stepped towards the loaf bread, a burly man clad in a leopard print bodysuit appeared at the opposite end of the aisle, equidistant from the loaves; they locked eyes instantly. They both stood still for a long moment, each sizing up the other. Walter swallowed thickly, then said threateningly, “Back off, jack. I was here first.”

His Macho Man Randy Savage-esque adversary narrowed his eyes and flexed his biceps. “I saw it first, brother. You’ll back away if you know what’s good for you. Oh yeah!” He adjusted his neon orange cowboy hat and ran his fingers through his mullet.

“I already know what’s good for me.” Walter snapped.

Discount Man Randy Cabbage flexed his pecs dramatically, then asked, “And what’s that? Oh yeah!”

“Fruits and vegetables.” Walter answered without any trace of sarcasm.

The man was nonplussed by Walter’s response. He stood with a look of profound confusion on his face as he pondered the health benefits of nature’s bounty. Taking advantage of his distraction, Walter shot off like a bullet down the aisle. He hip checked an employee who stood in his path and dove wildly at the bread, sliding all of it into his cart with a tremendous sweep of his arm. He whirled about wildly and fled towards the dairy section with both his precious bread and a mortified Marianne in tow. Macho man yelled in outrage and began chasing after him. “Get back here! Those are mine! Oh yeah!” He roared. 

As they sprinted through the store, Walter began knocking cans and boxes off of shelves in an effort to slow their muscle-bound pursuer. When he failed to impede his adversary who was, instead, rapidly gaining on them, he switched tactics. As he passed a massive pallet of condensed soup that stood in the center of an aisle, Walter delivered a tremendous kick to the bottom of the pile. The massive tower of soupy goodness tilted dangerously to one side and, just as Macho-Macho Man reached them, it came crashing down around him, burying him in a delicious rain of beef and barley. Walter laughed maniacally as they fled the scene, leaving Macho Man yelling obscenities (Oh yeah, brother!) as he tried to free himself from his soupy prison.

“Was all that really necessary?” Marianne asked breathlessly.

“Was what necessary?” Walter asked, surprised by her question.

“You knocked that girl over. And the soup. And… whoever that guy was. You could have really hurt someone.” She motioned angrily at the mess behind them.  
“I’m sure everyone’s fine.” He said offhandedly. 

“And if they’re not?” Marianne asked.

Walter ignored her and opened a cooler. “Oh, look! Milk is on sale for $1.95! How many gallons should I get?” 

She made an exasperated sound. “You already have plenty of milk.”

“Yes, but I could run out.” He explained.

Marianne sighed again. “You’re not going to run out.”

“But if I do?” He pressed.

Marianne’s soul left her body. “Oh, my God. Just get some so we can go.”

“I’ll just get an extra gallon to be safe.” Walter lifted six gallons into their cart, then stopped to think. “What else is on the list?”

Marianne dug it out of her purse and read it aloud. “Fourteen loaves of bread, five gallons of milk, two dozen eggs, and… kerosene?”

“It’s for my generator, in case I lose power.” Walter explained.

“Does Walmart even sell that?”

“Of course! They sell everything.” He said. “Just the other day, they had a sale on caskets, so me and Luther…”

“They don’t actually sell caskets, do they?” 

Walter nodded, as serious as a heart attack. “They do. Well, this one does, at least. Anyway, me and Luther bought two. We were gonna use ‘em to prank Yorkie, but then Ginny said that… Hey! Look!”

Marianne obliged. “What am I looking at?”

Walter grinned excitedly and motioned to a colorful advertisement. “They’ve finally got new deer stands in! Let’s go look at ‘em.”

“You’ve already got two deer stands, and you only have one ass. What are you going to do with another?” Marianne shook her head. “Let’s go find some kerosene so we can get out of here.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked around. “I think I see the hardware department. Let’s go.” When Walter didn’t respond, she realized that he was gone like the wind. That was an aggravating habit of his, Marianne thought with a sigh. Whenever they went anywhere, she had to treat him like a child because he, without warning, would find something that piqued his interest and would just wander off, leaving her alone with bags of groceries or, in one extraordinarily uncomfortable instance, in a bar with an angry priest and an offended rabbi. Now, he wasn’t actually an idiot - far from it. He had multiple degrees and certifications, most acquired out of sheer boredom. He only seemed to be flighty and stubborn. Marianne sometimes wondered if it was all just a facade that was meant to be disarming because, if anything, he could be extremely astute - in a cold, calculating sort of way. Just not today, apparently. 

Marianne walked towards a nearby row of shelves filled with camouflage print and hunting supplies; that was the most likely place to find him, and she wasn’t disappointed. 

“What are you doing?” She fussed.

Walter brandished a large, flat box triumphantly. “Lookit! Do you know what this is?”

“...That better not be a deer s…”

“It’s a deer stand.” Walter grinned nervously. “Please, Marianne?”

“You already have two. Put it back and let’s go.”

“But-”

“No.”

Walter crossed his arms and met her glare with an equally impressive one. “I’m four hundred years old. I’ll buy it if I want to.”

Marianne put her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Then. Buy. It.”

“...Please, sugar? Pretty please with pralines on top? With Old Bay seasoning on top?” Walter held the box out excitedly. “Just look! This one’s got a cup holder!”

Something snapped in Marianne. A cup holder? Really? She was tired of being in Walmart and wanted to go back home to her electric blanket, wine, and that naughty little dollar store novel, so she decided to do something she’d probably regret. Oh, well. It wasn’t as if things could get that much worse, right?

She pulled out her cell phone and looked at it for a moment, and then, feigning surprise, she called out to Walter. “Wally? I’ve got bad news.”

“What?” He didn’t turn to face her; his eyes were still glued to the box. 

“I just found out that they’ve changed the weather forecast.” 

His head snapped towards her. “When?”

“It… uh, just popped up on my phone. As an alert.” Marianne tried to look concerned.

“But I didn’t get an alert. Are you sure?” Walter extracted his phone from his back pocket and looked at it anxiously. “What are they calling for?”

Marianne tried to look worried. “Even more snow.”

Walter’s green eyes widened noticeably. “How much more?”

“They’re saying it’ll be a blizzard now. Something like seven inches… maybe eight. And that’s not the only thing either.”

Walter’s hands trembled. “What?” He asked nervously.

Marianne leaned in for dramatic effect and whispered ominously, “Ice.”

Walter stood, petrified. “Are you okay?” Marianne poked his shoulder.

With a sudden, agile movement, he threw the heavy box aside and swept her up in his arms, depositing her unceremoniously into the back of the overloaded shopping cart. Ignoring her startled protestations, he grabbed the cart and sprinted full-speed towards the cash registers with a look of sheer terror plastered on his face. When he reached the cash registers, he let out a frustrated groan. “There’s like fifty people in this line! We’re never gettin’ outta here!”

Marianne made an indignant noise as she sat up in the buggy and attempted to climb out. “I’m going to kill you for putting me in here!” She managed to stand for a moment before she lost her balance and toppled out into Walter’s waiting arms. She straightened herself up and attempted to regain her dignity. “And this line’s not that bad.”

Walter looked around anxiously for another register. He snapped his fingers. “Hear me out. What about the self-checkout?”

Marianne shook her head emphatically. “No. Absolutely not. You’re still paying for the last one you broke.”

Walter threw his arms in the air. “Oh, here we go. It was an accident!”

“You punched it!” Marianne cried.

Walter crossed his arms peevishly. “Well, it sassed me.” 

“How? It’s a machine!” She closed her eyes tightly. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now.” She pointed a manicured finger at him. “We’re waiting right here and I’ll be damned if you drag me anywhere else.” 

Walter looked hurt. “There’s no reason to be mean, Marianne. I don’t wanna get stuck here with ice on the roads. I just wanna keep you safe, butter bean.” Oh, right. She had already forgotten about that.

Marianne held up her hands in mock surrender. “All right. We’ll use the self checkout. But no punching, promise?”

Walter gave her a wide smile and performed a mock salute. “Scout’s honor.” 

“You’re not a boy scout.”

“Well, I used to be.”

“Eighty years ago. I don’t think it counts anymore.”

With a chuckle, he pushed the cart to the empty register and, for a moment, perused a nearby magazine rack. He chose a magazine and thumbed through it. “Do you think that Camilla is actually plotting to kill Prince Philip?” 

Marianne gave him a sidelong glance. “What?”

“This magazine. It says that Camilla’s gonna steal the throne by assassinating Prince Philip with a bazooka.”

She yanked the magazine from his hands. “If you don’t focus, I’m going to assassinate you with a bazooka.” Walter looked at her expectantly. “What now?”

He gave her a desperate look. “Can I buy some candy?”

“No!” She dragged him away from the Milky Ways and Musketeers.

“But-” He pleaded, still staring longingly at the chocolate.

“Ice storm.” She reminded him. 

He flinched at those words and turned to the kiosk. “Right, sorry. I should probably hurry.”

As Marianne began to unload their buggy, he pressed “Start.” 

“Hello, and welcome to Walmart.” The female-voiced kiosk chirped lifelessly. “To begin, please scan your first item and place it in a bag.” Walter lifted a loaf of bread and scanned it. _Beep_. The kiosk displayed an error message, then stated, “Please rescan the item.” He scanned it again. _Beep_. “Please rescan the item.” He huffed angrily, but complied. _Beep_. “Please scan a little faster.” _Beep_. “A little faster.” _Beep_. “Faster.” _Beep_. “Now slower.” Walter glared at the machine and scanned the bread deliberately. _Beep_. 

The checkout displayed another error message and chirped, “I said slower, dumbass.” Walter stared at the machine for a moment, then, with an inhuman roar, raised his fist and swung. The screen sparked and shattered, then shut off with a sad little _Boop_.

Marianne looked at him in shock. “Oh, my ever-loving God. _Did you just punch the computer_?” She asked, her voice full of angry disbelief. 

“Uh… no. She tripped and fell.” Walter explained, as if Marianne hadn’t just seen him punch it. 

The ruined screened briefly flickered. “Thank… Kzzz… for shopping at… mart. Please collect your… and change.” The self-checkout spit out a receipt covered in gibberish before eternally departing the physical world for the great motherboard in the sky.

Walter gingerly laid money on the register, collected the nonsense receipt, then turned to Marianne and whispered, “We should probably go.”

“You think?” She turned on her heel and marched towards the exit, leaving him behind.

Walter grabbed the cart and followed her. “Hold on, Marianne! Wait up.” He stopped short when he noticed the sky; the heavy gray clouds looked fit to burst. He increased his pace in nervous anticipation.

As they traversed the crowded parking lot, Marianne refused to acknowledge his pleas or slow down and, when she reached the truck, she climbed in, slamming the door with a bang. Walter dispatched the groceries into the truck’s toolbox and hopped in, anxious to escape the cold. For a moment, they sat in heavy silence. Walter turned to her and, smiling guiltily, tried to hold her hand. She snatched it away and turned to the window. He sighed loudly and cranked the engine, then backed out of his space. Walter slowly navigated the parking lot and turned onto the main road. As he drove, he said sadly, “Here I am, on my knees again. Baby, I’ll do anything to make it right.” Again, he attempted to grasp her hand. He gave her his sorriest, most charming-est smile and continued. “Just say you’ll understand. I know you can, so come on Marianne. Please?”

Finally, she deigned to acknowledge him. “Did you really just apologize by quoting The Four Seasons?”

Walter shrugged. “That depends. Did it work?”

Her stoic expression faltered, and she laughed derisively. “You’re unbelievable.” 

Walter grinned. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Marianne rolled her eyes so hard that she gave herself whiplash. For a few minutes longer, they continued the drive in silence. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how, as the snow began to fall in earnest, Walter gripped the steering wheel so firmly that his knuckles blanched. He tried to break the silence again. “Do you think it’ll lay? I, for one, hope it doesn't.” She didn’t answer.

He shivered and turned the heater on. “You know, when we get home… I was thinking that maybe we could snuggle up on the couch together. We could watch that... uh… whatchamacallit… Hallmark channel that you like so good. I’ll open up some muscadine wine.” Walter drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I could even do that thing with my tongue that you like so much.”

“Walter!” Marianne blushed furiously. “Stop it. Can’t you see that I’m trying to be mad?”

Walter motioned exasperatedly with one hand. “I don’t understand why you’re mad. What did I even do?”

Marianne regarded him blankly. “Really? You don’t know what you did?”

Walter was silent for a moment. “It called me stupid.”

“It’s a machine! It can’t call you anything.” Marianne yelled in frustration. She massaged her temples. Sometimes, he could be so willfully obtuse that he gave her a migraine. Why did she love him so much? Did she enjoy it? Was she simply a glutton for punishment? Or was it his goofy smile? Something in his handsome face and his easy way of speaking seemed to demand forgiveness, no matter what he did to piss her off. That was the worst thing of all, she thought. Try as she might (and the good Lord knows, she did), she couldn’t stay angry at him for long. In fact, given enough time, she’d feel guilty for being mad and would apologize to him. She sighed heavily. “Walter?”

He looked at her nervously. “Sweet potato?”

“I shouldn't be angry.” 

Surprise briefly flashed across his face. “Really? Oh, uh… I mean, I know.” 

She shook her head. “No, you don’t. I know what snow does to you. I should cut you some slack.”

Walter cocked his head to one side. “Elaborate.” 

Marianne put her hand on his denim-clad thigh and squeezed it. “Well,” She began, choosing her words carefully. “It’s just that sometimes you get a little… stir crazy.”

“I do not.” He said indignantly.

“You’re right.” She admitted. “That doesn’t really describe it. What I meant to say is that you lose your Goddamn mind.”

Walter scoffed at her statement. “I scoff at your statement.”

“Oh, really?” Marianne shifted in her seat and faced him. “What about the year before last? Hm? When it snowed an inch and you barricaded your doors and windows because you thought the world was ending? I didn’t see you for a month. Or the year before that, when you got snowed in with Luther? He said that you tried to eat him when you ran out of food.” 

Walter turned into the driveway. “I was hungry. What was I supposed to do? Eat snow?” He stopped the truck in front of the house. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that I… I may have made things worse.”

He looked confused. “How? Even if what you say is true - and I just know it’s not - you can’t make it snow.”

Marianne twirled a strand of hair. “No, I can’t. But, well… it’s kind of a funny story.”

Walter killed the engine and faced her. “What?” When she didn’t answer, he poked her. “Spill it.” 

“I lied about the forecast. There’s no blizzard.” 

Walter’s face went hard. He asked slowly, “Now why would you go and do a thing like that?”

Marianne crossed her arms defensively. “I wanted to come home, okay? If I hadn’t lied, we’d still be there looking at deer stands and caskets.”

Walter glared at her in angry disbelief. “What a cruel thing to do, Marianne. You know how I feel about lyin’.”

She reached out to him. “Walter, I’m really sorry.”

He pulled away from her and opened the driver-side door. “And you said I was unbelievable. Did you ever stop to wonder why I hate snow so much?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “No, you didn’t. Cause if you did, you’d know that I watched my favorite horse freeze to death in a blizzard. It was extremely traumatic.”

Marianne followed him out of the truck and watched him grab angrily at the groceries. “I had no idea! I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes. She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “You never told me that. Oh God, I feel like such an ass.” 

“Well, you should.” Walter snapped. “I almost froze to death too! I had to cut his corpse open with my lightsaber and climb inside of him to survive.”

Marianne stared at Walter, who now wore a shit-eating grin. “I’m going to kill you! I believed you, you jerk.” She swung her purse at him. “I actually felt sorry for you!”

Walter laughed and stepped out of striking distance. “Hell, I knew you was lyin’ from the get-go. Did you really think I wouldn’t check my weather app?” He stepped forward and grabbed Marianne by the arm, pulling her into a tight embrace. They stood still for a moment, insulating each other from the cold. He kissed the top of her head. “Come on baby, let’s stop fightin’. Please? I was just havin’ a little fun.” 

She relaxed into his arms and sighed in resignation. “So you tossed me into the back of a shopping cart just to mess with me?”

He pressed his face onto the top of her head and mumbled, “Yep.”

“And the self-checkout?”

“Actually, I wasn’t kidding about that. That robot bitch called me a dumbass.” He released her and strolled towards the front door. Snow crunched under his boots with each step. 

She followed after him. “What about what you said earlier? About snuggling and wine and Hallmark? Was that a joke too?”

He grinned mischievously. “Oh, I was definitely serious about _all_ of that.” He entered the house.

At that, Marianne grinned. She followed him into the warmth and shut the door softly behind her.


End file.
